


Wicked Game

by BelleWrites (sunleyemrys)



Series: A Hawke and Her Wolf [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, He doesnt know if he loves her, Lyrium, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 05:05:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunleyemrys/pseuds/BelleWrites
Summary: Set right after "Headed Straight for the Castle" Poor Fenris





	Wicked Game

He slowly came to, his memory a haze. He was, home? That didn’t make sense, the last he remembered being was the Viscount’s Keep, and then he had seen…

“Marian!” He bolted up, wincing through the pain, everything coming back into focus. The abomination had saved her life, had used his brands. He had given permission.

Groaning he laid back on the bed, throwing an arm over his face. His very skin ached, even his teeth. He knew he needed to get up, to start moving. It would make the pain more manageable after a spell, he knew it, but Fenris just, wasn’t sure he could face the world right then.

He could vaguely recall the word, “Domina”, he had called her that. His stomach turned, and he rolled swiftly, dry heaving over the barren stones. That wouldn’t be how he really thought of her, right? It didn’t make sense!

He slid off the bed, shoulders connecting with the floor, he welcomed the sharp, sudden pain over the ache seeping into his soul. At least the floor was cool on his feverish skin. Fenis lay there, pondering everything. Did he love her? Did he know what love was? Was he capable of love? Or had his past warped him into a being incapable of compassion for a person?

He felt things, deep, swirling emotions for her. She was bright, passionate, full of energy. She made him laugh, not something he knew he could do before her. But was it love? He didn’t know. He hadn’t expected to love. Maker, he hadn’t expected to live this long.

He thought back to that night, that fateful night, the happiest and most tormented night. He had grabbed her, a beast trapped in the spell of her bright blue eyes. He had clawed her until she had begged, whimpered, pleaded for more. And help him, he had given it to her. The unbridled passion of the animal he was.

The timid way she had touched his lyrium, _“They hurt no matter what, don’t they?”_ She had carefully avoided brushing her fingertips over them, eyes lost in the magic of the flesh between them, driving him mad until he had grabbed her hand, pressing the whole of it against his skin, hissing past the pain towards the pleasure of _her_ touch.

“It doesn’t matter. Its you, I would endure any pain for you.” The words had died on his lips, he had been too afraid to say them. Instead he had covered her face in kisses.

He pushed the memory away with a growl, it did no good to open old wounds. What could he ever offer to someone like her? The city’s darling. He was an escaped slave living in a ‘borrowed’ mansion, the only coin he had he had only earned because of her. She was a mage, the very thing he hated, but she was still, Marian.

Shoving the heels of his hands into his eyes, Fenris swore. It was the same thoughts, over and over for the past six months, and even before that if he was being honest with himself. Ever since that first night, red hair blowing free as she happily offered to help him, for no reason beyond it being the right thing to do. Her unabashed use of magic, saying that all she wanted was to keep her family safe, the easy way she smiled at him.

She had cemented herself in his life from that moment, for no other reason than he found her intriguing. And then, he had found himself thinking of her at all hours, waking and dreaming. Once, a blue scarf had caught his attention, and he had thought about how it would match her lovely eyes. She had loved the scarf when he had gifted to her on First Day and wore whenever it was chilly.

He had to force himself off the floor. Stop brooding and wishing to change the past. It was done, there was nothing he could to fix his mistake. If it was a mistake? He didn’t know. He shuffled to his feet, feeling his flesh protest. A slip of paper caught his eye, on the small table by the bed. His ability to read, another thing he could thank her for. In her steady hand was his name, “Fenris”.

_“I hope you are okay. Anders had to cast a sleep spell to get you to calm down. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. He says you said it was alright to use your brands, well, once I stopped slapping him and let him speak that is. Aveline helped us get you home. She says you are surprisingly heavy for an elf._

_I just, thank you. You saved my life, once again. I just wish it could have been some other way. I know they cause you pain, so I can’t imagine the agony that was. I am so incredibly sorry you went through that. Still go through that._

_I’m going to be visiting the coast for a week, I just need to be, not the Champion for a bit. Can we spar when I get back? I’d like that a lot._

_~MH”_

She blamed herself, of course she did. He felt shame, it burned his face. If it hadn’t been for him, she wouldn’t have been injured like that to begin with! He didn’t deserve her kindness, her compassion. None of it. He swiped a hand over his cheeks, feeling the dampness.

A week. She would be back a week. Perhaps he would have it figured out by then.


End file.
